by Marks, V. R.
"I'm great, thanks. I'm calling because –"
"Still over there at the motel?"
"Yes. We have a new connection on that burglary case you've been working."
"We can find you a more comfortable place to live if you're staying in Haleswood."
He smiled when she gave a little exasperated huff. The girl was New York City all the way and while she did excellent work for RC Investigations, she had yet to adjust to the different pace of a small town. Of course he needed to know about the case, but learning how she was getting on was equally important.
"I may take you up on that when Ross decides what he needs, Sheriff. Now, about the burglaries."
"Fire away." He pulled to a stop in front of the motel where she was staying.
"I've cross-referenced the items stolen along with the details regarding entry at each scene."
"Doing that geographic pattern thing Ross was telling me about?"
"Yes." He could hear the smile in her voice. "We've found similar crimes in Darlington and Bishopville and I think I've narrowed down his likely home base. I've sent a full report to your email but –"
"Are you decent?"
"Excuse me?"
"I'm here at your door. Why don't you just walk me through it?"
Another nearly imperceptible sigh. "Sure."
The motel room door opened and he grinned down at the exotic Italian beauty. He pocketed his cell phone. "You know I'm a traditionalist."
She laughed and waved him in. "Bet you'll soon be wishing you were looking at your own monitor rather than over my shoulder."
"I'll survive." He was looking forward to dealing with a problem that might have a straightforward solution. For a split second he considered asking Eva's advice in regards to Ruth, but stopped short. He knew she'd keep the secret, it just felt like crossing a line. While there were similarities between Eva and Ruth – primarily their independent nature – it felt like cheating on a test.
Somehow he'd find out what Ruth needed –
"Sheriff? I know it's not a name and address, but still."
"Forgive me. I, ah, glazed over for a second."
"I wasn't even doing the tech-chatter," Eva said, rolling her eyes. "Want to talk about it?"
He shook his head and really studied the information on her screen. Average size boots, with a sole pattern typical for men's hikers. Didn't narrow it down much, especially during hunting season. Point of entry was a first story window, usually a small one like a bathroom. In more than one case the burglar went through the easy access of a dog door. "What kind of burglar goes into homes with dogs and why the hell hasn't anyone spotted him?"
"I wondered the same thing." She clicked something and the screen changed to a different chart. "Look at the reports."
He leaned in. "You think it's a kid."
"Yup. All daytime robberies. All small, expensive stuff."
"But none of the property stolen from residents in our county has resurfaced. What's he gain?"
She shrugged. "Not my area. But here's one more thing. There are two Monday night robberies in Bishopville on this list."
"Scout night."
"It fits. Both of those families had at least one boy scout." Eva leaned back and started ticking off the attributes on her fingers. "Teenager. Probably male. Local high school student. Has a car or access to a car. Doesn't need the money."
Ben was thinking. "Doing it for the rush."
"That's my thought."
"Give me the names and addresses of the victims with dog doors."
"You've got an idea."
"Just a hunch. Wouldn't have that without your analysis. Thanks. Want to ride with me?"
"As much as I'd like to, there are some other details I need to work on."
Saying his goodbyes, he left town to follow his hunch.
* * *
By afternoon, Ruth had worked most of her temper off with the kitchen prep for Thursday. She'd given Heather the extra hours so she'd have more cash to blow on her Black Friday outing with her sister.
"Oh, those old biddies drive me crazy," Heather muttered, stomping around the kitchen and pulling pies out of the cooler.
Ruth checked the clock. Monday at four o'clock meant Mrs. Rinney and her bridge club.
"What is it today?" They loved to chatter about all kinds of things from the weather to their grandchildren's love interests.
"Oh, today they're all about setting the sheriff up on a date. Gross."
Ruth nearly leaped to Ben's defense before she remembered she wasn't supposed to know anything about him on a personal level the local teenagers might define as gross.
"They're talking smack about Eva too."
"Does 'smack' still mean what I think it means or is it the new term for pairing her off with someone?" Ruth left the stuffing she was mixing to help Heather with the orders.
"Hardly. One of them claims the sheriff and Eva are hooking up."
"What?" Startled, Ruth lowered her voice. "Who said that?"
"The one with blue hair," Heather replied, rolling her eyes. "Someone saw him go into her motel room today."
"He was probably checking on her or – or – something related to a case." She stopped short at Heather's stunned expression. "I heard about it from Allie," she said, trying to save face. "Ross' team does a new kind of assessment to narrow down a search field or something like that. It's supposed to make it easier to find a suspect."
"Yeah," Heather said slowly. "I'm sure that was it." She pushed backward through the door, the full tray balanced in one hand, a full water pitcher in the other.
Heather probably wouldn't think about this exchange again, but Ruth couldn't get the picture out of her mind. Ben and Eva. She felt sick.
No way. Ben wouldn't do that. Just because Eva was beautiful and Ruth hadn't said yes, didn't mean he'd just trot off and immediately try to fill the void.
There wasn't a void, she thought darkly, pushing a pan of stuffing into the oven. They might not be getting married, but they sure as hell hadn't broken up.
Yet.
Is that what would happen if she didn't change her mind and accept his proposal?
She slumped against the counter, wondering, replaying it all. Should she have said yes at the first hint of sparkle?
No.
Old enough to be gross by teen standards, she wasn't so old she would settle for anything less than love as the foundation of a marriage. And she sure as hell wouldn't settle for love going just one way – from her to him.
She hadn't said anything out loud, because she didn't want to scare him off or get an obligatory declaration in return. But she'd tried to show it in little ways when they were together. She made his favorite dessert when she cooked dinner for him, added cookies to the order when the department needed lunch to-go. Little things, but those mattered, underscoring the bigger picture.
Ben cared. Ben protected. But until she knew he loved her like she loved him, marriage was not an option.
-Two-
Ben thought about calling her on the way out of town and decided against it. Ruth didn't handle hovering well, which looking back, he realized was part of the problem. Hard not to hover in light of recent circumstances, but that wasn't how she would see it.
So he settled for leaving word with his office and having Eva send her work to the other two departments wrestling with this slippery burglar.
The drive gave him time to think about the connections Eva had made between what appeared to be unrelated cases in two different counties.
The first key, from his perspective, was the void in the center of all those burglary reports. Plenty of area to cover, but it narrowed it down from the disjointed attempts of three departments looking in the wrong places for one man. Eva could sort data, but he knew the people and the area better.
Reaching that central point where no house had yet been victimized, he drove back and forth from the high school and middle school toward a few of the crime scenes. He called bac
k to the office and asked Mrs. Jackson to get him the bell schedules on the off chance that someone in the high school was teamed up with someone at the middle school.
He drove by the homes in Bishopville where the dog door had been the point of entry and with a heavy heart he aimed the car toward Columbia and his old friend Judge Boone.
Calling ahead, he asked the receptionist to have the judge clear a few minutes for him. If he was wrong – and Lord, he hoped he was wrong – he might even get back to Haleswood tonight.
* * *
Ruth couldn't believe she'd agreed to meet Ben in Darlington the day before Thanksgiving. She had too much going on to disappear without any worthy excuse for the staff. And she didn't much care for the sly look Jeanne had given her as she slid out the back door.
But when his number had lit up her cell phone, the relief had been too much to ignore. He hadn't been back to the Rooster for lunch or dinner on Monday. That wasn't terribly odd, especially in light of the proposal, but when he'd missed Tuesday and Wednesday breakfast the worry and what ifs had set in.
His job put him in dangerous situations, but only occasionally. Life in general was a risk and accidents happened all the time. If anything terrible had happened, she would have heard about it through the grapevine.
The thought made her stomach clutch.
That niggling voice in the back of her head reminded her that if Ben had an accident, she would only be entitled to hear about it second hand. No one knew what they meant to each other. Good grief, she wasn't sure they knew exactly what they meant to each other.
If they were married…
Now she was coming at it from the same place as he had been: fear. Not acceptable. What they had was working and until they shared something more than a deep affection and attraction, she wouldn't agree to change it.
Reaching the diner he'd specified, she parked and took a minute to freshen her lipstick and take a few deep breaths before going in to meet him.
"Neutral territory," she muttered. She only hoped it was far enough away that word of their meeting didn't get back to Haleswood before they did. She frowned, realizing she spent a great deal of energy wondering when their secret wouldn't be a secret anymore.
He stood as she reached the table, but his smile faded when she pulled off her gloves and her hands were bare. "You look lovely," he said with a smidge too much cheer.
"Flattery won't get you more turkey." She tried to laugh off the compliment and pretend nothing was wrong between them. "I know the stress of a big event shows. Was this trek out here really necessary?"
"I thought so." He signaled the waitress. "I've missed you."
She wasn't about to tell him how close she'd come to wheedling news out of his deputies this morning. "Is everything okay?"
"Just an awkward case. I should have called." He paused while they ordered and let the waitress top off his coffee. When she left, his smile was warmer. "And everything takes twice as long when the roads are clogged with holiday travelers."
"True."
"Did you have any trouble?"
"You didn't ask for me to drive all this way to talk traffic, Ben."
"Do you still have the ring?"
"Of course." It sat on her dresser alternately mocking her and daring her to accept it. "Are you expecting me to pawn it?"
"No." He scrubbed at his face. "I'm sorry if you misunderstood my, umm, offer."
She leaned forward to avoid being overheard. "How did I misunderstand 'marry me'?"
"Well, I think I've botched it and I want to apologize. I understand you're afraid of commitment," he paused when the waitress delivered her salad.
"Afraid of commitment," she echoed. How could he say such a thing? She'd been married to the Midnight Rooster since long before he'd come in for his first breakfast as sheriff. "Why didn't I hear Dr. Phil was in town?"
"Only so close as Columbia," Ben teased with a wink. "But I'm talking about personal commitment," he clarified.
"Yeah. I got that." She poked at her salad, her appetite gone.
"No matter what you decide, we'll always be friends."
"Friends."
"Yes." He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. "I want what's best for you. Always have. If it's not me, I'll understand."
"So if I say no, we just revert to square one."
"That's what I wanted to talk about."
She withdrew her hand and stabbed at the mixed greens in her bowl. "Maybe you should stop talking. About commitment and everything else." They'd been friends since the day they'd met. Marriage or friendship? Those were the only options? The perfectly functional middle ground they'd been enjoying was off the table? She scowled. She didn't deserve an ultimatum like this.
"Ruth, relax. I took a shot when I popped the question. If you're not on the same page it's all right."
"How?" How could she go back to 'friends' after sharing his bed? "You proposed." That did more than break the first rule of their casual relationship. That completely shattered the definition. "When we took this leap we agreed it would be no-pressure. Temporary. Just for us."
"I don't recall agreeing to temporary," he said with a frown.
"Ben." She sighed. "We didn't agree to anything but keeping it just between us."
"So let's renegotiate."
After the sleep she'd lost mulling over the worry and what ifs, assessing and reassessing her feelings for him? "If that's the case, I need coffee."
He poured her a cup from the pot on the table and she added a spoonful of sugar, a bit of cream, and stirred slowly.
"I can't think of terms to start us off," he admitted.
"There should be a no more surprises term." When she'd been on the cruise, she'd kept thinking of him, of the moments and memories they might have shared. Missing him had nearly ruined her vacation and she'd called herself all kinds of foolish. "I've been angry that you just up and changed everything."
"Was it really such a shock?"
Seeing him on one knee, the ring bright against the dark velvet – yeah it had been a shock.
"I asked you to help with the treadmill." She sent him a pointed look. "Did I look like I expected a diamond ring?"
He held up his hands in surrender and leaned back from the table. "When I got that call from the ship that you'd been threatened, it scared the hell out of me. I felt helpless."
"Most men gripe about feeling helpless in a marriage."
"Come on, Ruth. You could make this easier."
"Fine. That moment wasn't a picnic for me either, but I knew it had to be a prank. No one wants to hurt me."
He shot her a dark look. "That moment opened my eyes. If something ever happened to you, they'd call your brother, not me. It's not a comfortable feeling."
Hearing him state concerns so similar to hers was unnerving. "But that's over now. I know you care, Ben. I care about you too," she said without choking on the understatement. "That doesn't require turning everything upside down."
"Care?" There was no humor in his short bark of laughter. "I care enough to meet you where we won't run into our friends and neighbors. I care enough to keep my hands to myself whenever I see you." His eyes fired with a passion she rarely saw unless they were alone. "I care enough to keep it light when we have an audience. I care enough to want more. For both of us.
"Marry me. Please."
She stared at him, stunned silent. Her heart pounded against her ribs, an odd heat rushed over her skin, made her feel lightheaded. He said care, but she heard love, saw it in his eyes.
He'd just delivered everything she wanted in a proposal and never thought to hear.
Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she gathered her thoughts. "Ben," she began just as his phone sounded.
He waited for the caller ID and shook his head as it appeared. "I have to take this."
She bit her lip and counted it a blessing to have another minute to compose a reply as eloquent as his declaration had been.
He p
ulled his wallet out of his pocket as he exchanged information and confirmed times with the caller. When he was done, he looked at her, his eyes cool, smile gone.
"I have a meeting with Judge Boone and a suspect."
"Sounds serious."
"It's just work." He slid out of the booth and stood there a moment.
She wasn't sure what to do or say. For a woman who considered herself an excellent communicator she was screwing this up big time. "All right, then," he said at last. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow at dinner."
"Ben." She reached out and caught his hand, but instead of words flowing, tears welled in her eyes. She blinked them away.
Holding her hand, he drew her out of the booth until she stood flush against him, his chest warm against her breasts. Her heart pounded for another, delicious reason now as he slid an arm around her waist and tipped her chin so she met his gaze.
He was about to kiss her right here in the diner. In a room full of strangers. It felt all wrong. She raised a finger to his lips. He should know how she felt first. "Wait."
"No."
The hard, demanding kiss was a shock to her senses. She loved it, loved him. Meeting his urgency with her own she took them both deeper until, breathless, he stepped back.
"What worries you so much, Ruth? Is it me in particular or those judgmental biddies who stop in for gossip and pie in the afternoons?"
"That's not it." She'd hurt his feelings with her insecurity. "Let me explain."
"No time. Boone needs me."
"Tonight. You'll come by?"
His shoulders slumped. "Don't count on it. This could take a while."
The case would take as long as he wanted it to take. He was pushing her away because she'd been too afraid. Afraid of commitment and public opinion, but mostly afraid of her own heart.
The guilt stung. Her knees weak from the kiss, she slid back into the booth while he walked out.
Friendship, flirtation, and covert sex weren't enough. Not even at her age when she'd thought her happily ever after had ridden off into the sunset without her. Especially not at her age.
"Life's for living," she mumbled, stacking dishes on the table out of habit. What was life without love?